The End of All Ages
by Beastbot X
Summary: The Beast Wars come to an abrupt end as the Vexoran fleet unleashes a brutal assault on Earth and then Cybertron. The survival of the Transformers race is at stake! Twentieth and last in my Beast Wars series.
1. Chapter 1

"The End of All Ages, Part I: Prelude to a Cataclysm"

by Beastbot

"We're dead, we're dead, we're DEAD…" Cliffjumper whimpered upon seeing the huge spaceship. The vast Vexoran craft was filling the entire sky, even though it was so far away it was skimming the Earth's outer atmosphere.

"What is that thing?" Obsidian asked, breaking off from his attack on Atlas and transforming into robot mode. He turned his optics on infrared, as did everyone else in the area—since the massive Vexoran battleship was blocking out all sunlight, and only the tiniest specks of artificial light came from distant windows on its underside, it was far too dark to see normally. "It doesn't look like a Cybertronian spacecraft…"

"It's your leader Scourge's PALS," Bulkhead said. "Y'know, the guy you work for? He's an alien."

"But…. Impossible!" Obsidian said, bewildered. "Buzzsaw couldn't have been… no…."

"Look, Obsidian, you can sort out your emotional state later," Atlas said, wavering a bit in the air as he fiddled internally with his engine output. "That thing's so massive, it's actually messing with the gravity a little. It's easy to compensate for, but if that starship is big enough to actually have its own gravitational pull, it's going to make VERY short work of us! We have to get out of here, now!"

Obsidian looked around at the surrounding trees—indeed, though the pull wasn't nearly strong enough to, say, rip the trees from the ground or send any animals flying into the air, the leaves and branches of the trees seemed a little higher off the ground than they were last time he looked.

"'Bots, LOOK!" Cliffjumper shouted, pointing towards a cannon that was unfolding out of the bottom of the spacecraft. It looked tiny from this far away, but given that it was all the way in the outer atmosphere…

"They're getting ready to fire on us!" Atlas shouted. "Everyone, get out of here, NOW! Back to our ship!"

Considering everything he had worked towards since his activation was falling apart, Obsidian pulled himself out of his stupor remarkably quickly. "Vehicons, fall back! Follow Atlas, leave the wounded, there's no time for anything else!"

As fast as they possibly could, Atlas, Bulkhead, Landmine, Obsidian, Scavenger, Strika, and Mirage transformed and zoomed away from the communications outpost, heading towards the northeast where Atlas' ship had landed. Tankorr, the only one damaged in the fight who hadn't gone completely off-line, yelled out for someone to help him, as his optics had been destroyed, but as much as they wanted to, the Vehicons continued to flee. There was simply no time to help anyone injured from the fight. The cannon was already starting to glow yellow as it powered up, and another cannon was starting to fold out from another place on the spaceship's underside.

Atlas did a double-take.

Wait a minute.

Someone was missing.

"Cliffjumper!" Atlas yelled into his comlink. "Get out of there NOW and follow us, that's an ORDER! We don't have time to help Hot Shot!"

"No, he's my best bud!" came Cliffjumper's voice back over the comlink. "I can't just leave him here! I can make it!grunt There, I got him… Now, all I have to do is—"

"Cliffjumper, get OUT NOW!" Atlas screamed in panic just as the glowing cannon fired. Within a few seconds, the massive yellow beam zoomed through the atmosphere, momentarily blinding the fleeing 'bots a millisecond before it crashed into the area directly behind them, slamming into it with all the force of a meteor. The ground was completely obliterated from the impact, and the massive wave of force that followed from what had to be at least a mile-wide destructive beam swept over the Transformers, sending the ones in the air spinning uncontrollably into the distance, while the ones on the ground were blown into the air for several hundred yards.

"CLIFFJUMPER!" Atlas screamed in grief as the world turned a blinding yellow around him while he tumbled through the air. A few disorienting seconds later, he slammed full-on into a hillside, and everything turned black.

* * *

Tigerhawk gaped in horror as a huge yellow beam slammed into the Earth just over the horizon… and it looked like another one of the starship's huge cannons was coming online as well.

"What do we do?" Silverbolt yelled, his voice near-panic. "They just destroyed—"

"No, they couldn't have destroyed the Ark, nor the Predacon base-- that's not the right direction," Tigerhawk replied. "It must have been something else the Vexorans decided to annihilate first."

"Then what dost thou recommend we do?" Gryphtron said. "Surely the Vexorans will destroy the Ark next, we shan't—"

"No," Tigerhawk interrupted. "No, the Vexorans want to preserve their version of the time stream, not warp it. The Earth, over time, will heal from those blasts, but time will not heal if the Ark is destroyed. We must put aside our differences with Rhinox and return to the Ark—it is the only place where we may be safe for the immediate future."

"Are you insane?" Dinobot growled, wincing as the second cannon, now fully on-line, shot towards another objective, this target a bit further over the horizon than the previous blast. The ground shook slightly, and after the Transformers regained their balance, the velociraptor continued. "The Vexorans will not just leave us be! If they cannot blow the Ark to kingdom come, they will take out anyone gathered there personally!"

"Perhaps," Tigerhawk said, narrowing his optics, "But at least this way we will be able to take some of them down with us."

* * *

"Alright, Dreadwing's in the airlock already!" Barricade said hurriedly, double-checking the console screen to make sure he was correct. "So let's blast off and GET OUT OF HERE! That starship's bound to notice us soon enough!"

"Couldn't agree with y' more, mate," Slugslinger replied, as he steered their ship around and in the opposite direction of the massive starship. "That ship's got enough guns to easily handle the guys on Earth while still picking us off."

Opening up a link to Dreadwing in the airlock, Barricade said, "Dreadwing, buckle yourself down! We're going to enter transwarp space in a few nanoclicks!"

"Affirmative," Dreadwing said, his voice as cold as ever. "Shockwave must know of what we have found….immediately."

* * *

"High Guardian Zaknos," Scourge said as he, Scarem and Eclipse stepped out of the ship that had sent for them and into the battlecruiser's docking bay. He prostrated himself on the floor in front of the Vexoran supreme ruler, and Scarem and Eclipse did the same. "Scarem and myself thank you immensely for your help in this matter. I have also brought along with me a Transformer I have created lacking the free will of the others, whom I have named Eclipse. We are glad that you came when you did, since—"

"You think too highly of yourself, Scourge," Zaknos rasped, his eyes narrowed to slits. The Vexoran was several centuries old, to the point where he now had so many life support systems hooked up to him that he was more machine than living tissue. His voice was very dry and scratchy, and it had a metallic twang from various mechanical systems hooked up to the Vexoran equivalent of a respiratory system. He hovered a few feet off the ground on a hoverchair. "We are not here to settle your squabbles with a pack of lowly beasts. We do appreciate your information regarding the continued infestation of the Project, though, and after much deliberation we have decided to follow your recommended course of action. The time stream cannot suffer much more damage without threatening the existence of the Liege and his future plans.

"However, we are very, very disappointed with your and Tarad's failure to eliminate such a minute amount of lower life forms. Instead, you have only exacerbated the problem by bringing more of them online. Luckily, this error will be remedied shortly. Your failures have cost us a considerable amount of time and effort, Scourge. Consider yourselves under imprisonment until further investigation is conducted into the matter—and that creature you brought aboard with you is to be deactivated as well."

"But—" Scourge protested. He couldn't believe the High Guardian blamed _him_ for the problem! He was nothing but loyal to the Vexoran cause!

"Question me, and you will shatter your hopes of any freedom at all," Zaknos warned. "Guards, take Scourge and Scarem to the medical center to restore their natural states. Afterwards, lock them up in the cells. Take Eclipse to the waste center to be recycled upon our return to Vexora ."

The guards flanking Zaknos moved forward and prodded the duo away. Scourge and Scarem, both seething with rage, reluctantly let themselves be led to the medical center. Scourge gave Eclipse a warning look as he was led away not to resist the guards.

* * *

"Atlas! Atlas do you--- me? ---las!"

Atlas groaned as the noise from his crackling comlink tugged him back into the world of the living. Transforming painfully into robot mode, Atlas turned on his comlink.

"Ugh… Rhinox?"

"Atlas! Thank the Matrix you're --line! Where the slag are you? We figured after -- hit the satellite station where you and the --icons had been going at it—"

"Well, I kinda did crash into a hillside…. We lost Cliffjumper and Hot Shot, but it looks like rest of us are okay," Atlas noted, looking around and seeing the other 'bots around him starting to come back online. Landmine and Strika had been badly burned, but still seemed to be able to move with minor pain. "We made an emergency pact with the Vehicons for the time being. Listen, we've got to get to my shuttle before—"

"Too late," Rhinox replied sadly. "A beam--- ready hit it a few minutes ago. Get back to the Ark, and hurry! The Vex-- nding down troops by the thousands, according to-- scanners! They won't direct their beams here, so we've got a chance, albeit a small one."

"Got it, Atlas out," The Maximal commander replied. "Alright 'bots, we're heading to the Ark! It's the safest place left!" With that, Atlas flew into the air, followed by the rest of the small group of survivors. Looking up, Atlas saw small discs starting to break off from the bottom of the mothership overhead. _As if things couldn't get any worse…

* * *

_

Injector wiped the soot from his face and slowly stood up, staring at the large smoking crater behind him, Spittor, and Sandstorm.

"We'd, uh… we'd better…." Sandstorm stuttered. For once, the scorpion didn't know what to say.

"They're… they're all gone…" Injector said, his face twitching. "They're all GONE! THEY'RE ALL DEAD!"

The trio of Predacons stood in silence for a moment, staring at what was left of their base. Even the lava beneath it had evaporated under the intense heat—there was no sign that a large Predacon ship had ever been there. The only reason Injector, Spittor, and Sandstorm survived was because they had happened to be on guard duty at the time the mothership directed a beam at their home base, and seeing as how they were patrolling the outskirts of the base's perimeter, they had only been blown back by the blast without getting hit by its full force.

"That was one heckuva big blast, But we gotta get outta here fast!" Spittor said in his usual rapping beat.

"But, uh, where do we go, pardner?" Sandstorm questioned. "Ain't nowhere left fer us to run…"

"They're all dead…" Injector moaned.

"Snap out of it man, it's no time to panic! Now get a grip before you go all manic!" Spittor rapped, slapping Injector in the face.

"Y-you're right," Injector said, shaking his head. "L-listen, guys, I think the Ark's our only chance. I didn't see the ship fire in the Ark's direction yet, so the ship's probably still in one piece."

"Are you crazy, hombre!" Sandstorm yelled. "Those Maxies'll gut us alive!"

"I'm betting they'll want all the help they can get, same as us," Injector stated. "Look, you guys got any better ideas?"

Silence.

"Alright, then," Injector said, transforming into his beast mode. The others followed suit.

"We're gonna die one way or th' other, So we might as well just go for it, brothas…" Spittor said as the three ran or flew as fast as they could in the direction of the Ark.

* * *

"There's four hundred ships leaving the mothership's docking bays and counting," K-9 gulped as he cycled through the main monitor's various output screens. "Well, as much as I like to think of myself as an optimist… it's been nice knowing ya, folks."

The rest of the Maximals were all gathered together in the main room, watching the viewscreens and nervously awaiting the inevitable.

"Well, at least I'll go down fightin', just like I always wanted to," Bonecrusher said, his voice uncharacteristically heavy with dread.

"This is all my fault," Rhinox said quietly to the 'bot who had become his confidant over the past several months, Nighteye.

"What? Why the slag would you say that?" Nighteye said.

"I… I've pushed this team too hard, focusing only on beating Scourge, trying to avenge all the deaths he and Megatron have caused, I didn't… I didn't even think about directing our effort towards building a ship to get off of this planet. Surely with the amount of Maximals at our disposal now, we could have scrounged up enough materials by this time to reconstruct a good portion of the Axalon, perhaps to the point where it could have been spaceworthy again…"

"And then what? Let Scourge get away with running this planet? Even sending a skeleton crew on a resurrected Axalon back to Cybertron for help, it would have given us enough of a disadvantage—Scourge would have overrun us as soon as he found out."

"Well, at least we'd have had a better chance then we do now," Rhinox said bitterly.

"We'd got multiple energy signatures advancing on the base!" K-9 reported to the gathered group. "For the most part, they're who we expected—Atlas, his gang, and the Vehicons, as well as Tigerhawk's little club, but… we've also got three Predacon energy signatures incoming as well-- Spittor, Injector, and Sandstorm, apparently."

"Figures," Blackarachnia stated. "With the rest of the Predacon base destroyed, the few survivors must've run with their tails between their legs to the only safe place they knew, even IF it meant bunking with Maximals."

"Hey! Wazzpinator join Maximalzz by choizz!" The transmetal wasp-bot protested.

"I wasn't making a universal statement, Bugbrain."

"Let them in, K-9," Rhinox called out. "Just be sure to keep an eye on the Predacons. I don't think they'll pull anything, but… we can never be too sure."

"Alright," K-9 replied, "But they'll only be arriving about a cycle or so before the Vexoran horde itself does. Get ready, 'bots—in about three cycles, we'll be making our last stand."

"Hey, where Taran?" Dinotron asked, looking around.

"What?" Rhinox said, quickly doing a headcount of all the assembled Maximals. Yes, everyone was there except Taran, so he hadn't taken any of them with him to perform any more sick experiments on… so where had he gone?

"Found him," K-9 stated, "The indoor surveillance cameras show him trying to run some type of program in a door inside the Ark itself."

"Slaggit, he better not be betraying us again!" Rhinox cursed. "Blackarachnia, Sigma Prime, the Dinobots, with me! Let's find out what Taran is doing and stop him if it seems the last bit suspicious! The rest of you, get your weapons ready and help the others in when they get here, we've got less than 2 cycles until the Vexorans arrive at our front door!"

* * *

"Taran, stop right there! What the slag are you doing?" Rhinox said, aiming his rotary gun-hands at Taran, while the other Maximals with him arrived and readied their weapons as well.

"Awfully paranoid, aren't we?" Taran chuckled, though otherwise he ignored the Maximals by continuing to hack into the security system that was holding this door inside the Ark closed. "I'm just providing you a means of escape, that's all. No need to get all agitated, heh."

"What Taran mean?" Triceradon questioned, lowering his weapon slightly.

"I mean… this," Taran said, as he punched in a few last commands into the door and with a hiss, the ancient airlock slided open.

Inside was a large—well, it was large compared to the Maximals, it was probably somewhat small compared to the Autobots—Autobot shuttle, in all its ancient glory. It was a little dented in some places from when the Ark crashed here millions of years ago, but it certainly was in good enough condition for spaceflight.

"But… the history tracks never mentioned this!" Blackarachnia said, confused.

"History's still being made…" Rhinox said in realization.

"Why didn't you tell us about this before, Taran?" Sigma Prime demanded.

"Obviously, I didn't want any of you to leave the planet too soon," Taran said. "I helped you get assistance from Cybertron, but at an opportune time for myself—you think it was a coincidence that Maximal help arrived only about a day before the Vexorans did as well? And here I thought you Transformers were intelligent…"

"Say the word, and me Grimlock cut him to pieces…" the white-and-black velociraptor-bot growled.

"Why? I thought you wanted to keep the Transformer race alive!" Blackarachnia asked.

"I do, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm also not very fond of my own race, either," Taran smirked. "I figured, why not have your race prove yourselves by going up against one of the most powerful races in the galaxy? Prove that you're worthy of existing, I say, by eliminating my own kin. If you win, congratulations, and my Vexoran problems are solved. If not, then I guess I overestimated your potential, but at least a planetful of you will leave a sizeable dent in the Vexoran fleet. The Vexorans do not take you lightly anymore, not since you blew up both their planet buster and Tarad's starship—they've sent their entire military force to conquer you. If you think the mothership that's visible in the sky here is the only one circling the planet, well, you're in for a nasty surprise. You should be honored, I suppose. But regardless, either way, I win to some extent, heheh."

"Me Triceradon had enough!" the tricera-bot yelled in rage, and fired his blaster at Taran. Cheetor's upgraded shell was too fast, though, and Taran dodged the blast with little effort.

"A little impatient, are we?" Taran chuckled. "Now, can I finish monologing? The Vexorans should just now be getting within the autoguns' firing range, we still have time. It's the least you 'bots can do, since I was so nice that I helped you send out a message giving Cybertron advance warning of the impending attack. If you'll give me about another cycle, I can make some quick modifications and turn this shuttle's shield into a cloaking device that will hide you from even the Vexoran's sensors. Then I'll teleport off this planet and leave you to make it out on your own."

"You're so full of slag," Rhinox growled. "You don't care if our race exists our not, despite what you say. You're just using our kind as a way to destroy your own hated kin."

"The point is moot," Taran said, "Let me get to work now, Rhinox, before I get bored and leave."

Suddenly, Rhinox's comlink crackled on.

"Rhinox, the Vexorans are starting to pierce the blast doors!" K-9's voice said over the com, though it was hard to hear him over all the metal straining noises in the background. "All the autoguns have been destroyed! What are you doing over there?"

Rhinox sighed heavily and nodded for Taran to continue with his work. Turning on his comlink, he replied, "K-9, all of you, fallback to the Ark! I repeat, fallback! We may have found our ticket out of here!"

"Well… not all of you," Taran said as he opened a panel on the bottom of the Autobot shuttle and started working.

"What do you mean, 'not all of us'?" Sigma Prime said, narrowing his optics.

"Isn't it obvious? This shuttle was made for carrying a maximum of four Autobots. Given our smaller size, I imagine you could fit sixteen Maximals in here without topping the spacecraft's weight limit. The rest of you will die.

"Choose wisely, Rhinox—I know how much you love making life-and-death decisions, heheh."

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

"The End of All Ages, Part II: Last Hope"

by Beastbot

"Seal the doors, now!"

"You heard Rhinox, guys! Seal 'em!" K-9 reiterated. With much grunting and heaving, many of the larger Maximals pushed the entry doors to the Ark shut, and not a moment too soon—no more than a few seconds passed before they heard some pounding and scraping sounds on the other side.

"Alright, that'll buy us SOME time," K-9 said. "Not much though. Why did you want us to fall back here, Rhinox? What's going-- holy SLAG!"

"I know," Rhinox said, "It's an Autobot shuttle—it's been right under our noses this whole time. Taran 'found' it for us. Listen, Maximals, this has been a very tough decision for me to make, but… we can only fit sixteen Transformers in this shuttle without surpassing its weight limit."

Taran smirked from behind Rhinox as he patted the side of the Autobot shuttle.

"Then… that means…" Cybershark started.

"The rest of us will die," Rhinox said sadly.

The other Maximals' expressions immediately turned from one of hope to one of bitterness and despair.

"Now, we don't have much time until the Vexorans break through," Rhinox continued, "And it's been very tough for me to make this decision, but I've decided which sixteen of you will go, based solely on how well I think you can help our race defend Cybertron from the impending invasion. I want you all to know I am NOT basing this on favoritism or anything of the sort."

"Rhinox, we know you well enough to know you wouldn't do something like that," Blackarachnia stated softly, walking over and putting her hand on Rhinox's shoulder.

"Wait, hold on," K-9 said. "Which sixteen 'of US' will go? Rhinox, you're not….?"

"No," Rhinox said sadly, shaking his head—or rather, the image of it on his neck-mounted monitor. "Look at me, I'd only be a hindrance in a battle… I'd be useless on Cybertron. It's… it's time I joined the rest of the original Axalon crew..."

"But—" K-9 started.

"Listen, we don't have time to argue!" Rhinox said, his tone quickly switching from despair to anger as the scratching on the other side of the Ark blast doors grew louder. "I'm going to list who's going NOW, and I want no arguments! Understand?"

"Oh, I understand perfectly," said a voice from behind Rhinox. Startled, all the Maximals turned their attention to the source of the voice—Injector, who had his gun pointed at the Maximals as he, Spittor, and Sandstorm backed up into the Autobot shuttle entryway. "And now we have a new understanding—WE are going to be three of those sixteen, or Sandstorm and Spittor will blow this shuttle up right now."

"Why, you opportunistic—" Dinobot growled, drawing his sword and spinning shield.

"Stop!" Rhinox said angrily, raising a hand as the other Maximals raised their guns. "Fire, and you might damage the shuttle! They… they can get what they want…."

The other Maximals glared daggers at the grinning Predacons as they backed into the shuttle and out of sight.

"Well, then who else is going?" Prowl asked.

"Prowl, you, Ironhide, and Silverbolt are going, first of all," Rhinox stated. "You three can form Magnaboss, and a gestalt will definitely be helpful during the impending invasion."

"I am only going if Blackarachnia is coming as well," Silverbolt said, putting his arm around Blackarachnia.

"Silverbolt, just go! Blackarachnia is primarily a melee fighter, she would not be effective against the Vexorans! You, on the other hand—"

"I do not care. My place is by my lady's side in a time of danger!" Silverbolt stubbornly insisted.

"Bonebrain, will you just shut up and listen to Rhinox?" Blackarachnia yelled at Silverbolt, leaving his embrace. "You know he doesn't like it anymore than you do, but even you have to admit it makes sense!"

Silverbolt sighed and put his hand on Blackarachnia's shoulder. "If you will not allow me to stay, my love… then I will do as you wish…"

"Don't worry, Bowser," Blackarachnia said sadly, placing the side of her head on Silverbolt's chest. "I… will always be with you…"

Silverbolt started to hug Blackarachnia firmly, but the spider pushed him away.

"Just… just go," Blackarachnia said, turning away as her voice wavered. "Before everyone dies waiting for us to say our goodbyes." She smiled sadly as she finished speaking.

Silverbolt, his shoulders sagging, made his way up into the shuttle behind Prowl and Ironhide. Taking one last look at Blackarachnia, he blew a kiss to her before entering the shuttle.

"Nighteye," Rhinox continued, "Obviously, your knowledge of the Vexorans is invaluable. You're going too."

"Understood, Rhinox," Nighteye said. "It's… been a pleasure getting to know you so well these past months."

"Likewise," Rhinox replied sadly. "Obsidian, Strika, Atlas—It's become obvious over the short time you've been here that you have been outstanding commanders of your respective teams. Your tactical knowledge is also needed on Cybertron, as our friends there will no doubt have their work cut out for them."

"Thank you for the kind words in spite of our differing allegiances, Rhinox," Obsidian bowed his head slightly. "I am sorry I was misled by my leader against you. Perhaps, if things we different... we could have been comrades."

"We'll do our best," Atlas nodded before the three entered the shuttle.

"Mirage, go with them," Rhinox said. "Your nearly-instantaneous teleporting will also be quite useful."

"Affirmative," Mirage droned before teleporting into the shuttle.

A loud explosion sound from the other side of the blast doors, accompanied by a rumble that echoed throughout the Ark, caused Rhinox to talk faster as he quickly read off the names of the rest of the Transformers he had selected.

"Cybershark, Ramulus, Bulkhead, Sigma Prime, Waspinator, you're coming too—" Rhinox started.

"Wazzpinator… going?" Waspinator interrupted, confused.

"Yes," Rhinox said, impatient as another blast rocked the Ark, this one louder than the last. "Listen, Waspinator, I saw you during that fight with Terrorsaur when Scourge attacked the Ark. When you really concentrate, you're stronger than you think you are! Your laser blasters and fast maneuvering will be very useful versus the Vexorans, and we really don't have any other energy-weapon-based flyers here that are as fast as you are!"

Another loud blast rocked the Ark, and the blast doors finally started to cave in.

"But—" Waspinator protested.

"Just GO, all of you!" Rhinox commanded. "I believe in you, Waspinator—the question is, do you believe in yourself?"

Waspinator thought for a moment before straightening out his back and standing tall. "Wazzpinator will do it for rhino-bot."

"Vexorans 're comin' in!" Bonecrusher roared, as he and the Dinobots charged towards the doors and started to pound ineffectually at the black forms as they oozed through the widening cracks in the blast doors.

"Yo, comic relief!" Cybershark yelled to Waspinator form the shuttle's entryway, "C'mon, the rest of us are already in the shuttle! Get your big stripey butt up here!"

"Wazzpinator coming!" Waspinator yelped before flying towards the shuttle.

"Now, listen, I'm only going to say this once," Taran said hurriedly to Cybershark at the shuttle entryway as Waspinator buzzed by them. "I installed a cloaking system in this shuttle that will not only render you invisible to the naked optic, but also cloak you from the Vexoran's sensors. Type in A-45 to activate it. Got that?"

"Yeah," Cybershark nodded.

"Good," Taran said quickly. "Then I'm out of here."

With that, the Vexoran inhabiting Cheetor's shell pressed a button on his wrist and fizzled out from view.

Rhinox turned his attention from the Transformers entering the Autobot shuttle to the Ark's blast doors, which now had a steady stream—literally—of Vexorans coming through them. They were starting to overwhelm Bonecrusher and the Dinobots.

"Maximals!" Rhinox commanded, "Attack! We must keep the Vexorans from reaching the shuttle, or all hope is lost!"

* * *

"Everyone strapped down?" Sigma Prime asked as he clicked on the startup engines.

"As much as is possible," Bulkhead admitted. "Geez, our ancestors sure were huge… I feel so tiny in these big seats…"

"Alright then, 'bots… say goodbye to Earth…." Sigma Prime said sadly as the shuttle bay started to crank the shuttle up to a near-vertical position for takeoff.

"Hey, wait!" Cybershark said from his seat near the back of the ship. "You need to enter a code before takeoff!"

"A code?" Sigma asked. "For what?"

"Some kind of cloaking field so the Vexoran ships can't see us escape. Taran built it in to the shuttle before he left."

"Woah, hold on," Ramulus interjected. "You're TRUSTING Taran, Fishboy? As the resident expert on deception, I think I should mention that this guy's screwed us over HOW many times now!"

* * *

"The shuttle is nearly in a takeoff position," Tigerhawk pointed out to Blackarachnia and Dinobot. "We just need to hold out a little longer…"

"Well, I'm taking as many of these pus bags down with me," Blackarachnia said, dodging a black arm that had just morphed into a sawblade.

Tigerhawk was about to reply, but Landmine suddenly came up from behind and whacked him across the head so hard it shattered Tigerhawk's optics and visor. The Transmetal II fuzor fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Wonderful, the Vexorans are already starting to infest the Transformers they've destroyed," Blackarachnia said. "Besides you and me, we've got, what, five Maximals left?"

"Remember when I taught you about how to control your Predacon programming?" Dinobot asked as he backed a few steps away from Landmine while another Vexoran seeped into Tigerhawk's structure and the fuzor started to get back up again.

"Yeah," Blackarachnia said, slashing at an advancing Bonecrusher.

"Forget it. All of it," Dinobot growled.

"Let's show 'em how much of a nuisance an 'inferior' race can be," Blackarachnia smirked.

With a final battle cry, the two former Predacons launched themselves at their opponents, slashing and hacking away at their former comrades.

* * *

"Look, Taran got us this far, didn't he?" Cybershark argued. "What would be the point in showing us the shuttle if he didn't intend for us to use it?"

"Yeah, just like we thought he was helping us when he built that satellite transmitter," Ramulus retorted. "How do we know this code won't blow up the shuttle or something?"

"Enough!" Sigma interrupted. "Look, we don't have time to argue right now, this is the only chance we've got at getting out of here undetected! Cybershark, what's the code?"

"A… 45," Cybershark replied.

"Alright then," Sigma Prime said, typing in the aforementioned code on the pilot's console and placing his hand over the enter button, "Here goes nothing…"

* * *

His treads ripped apart and his body tipped onto its back, Rhinox painfully looked up at the shuttle above him as a roof hatch at the top of the room creaked open and, with a huge plume of fire from its engines, the shuttle started to take off… and then abruptly disappeared, even though Rhinox could still feel the heat coming from the shuttle's engines.

"Yes…" Rhinox whispered, right before Grimlock's sword came down on his torso and stabbed him right through the spark.

* * *

"Look at that!" Strika breathed, looking out one of the shuttle's side windows.

"Even I wasn't aware the Vexoran armada had grown to such numbers…" Nighteye said softly.

Luckily for the small group of surviving Transformers, Taran had been telling the truth; the cloaking shield had worked, and the shuttle had left Earth behind with the Vexorans unaware of its presence. Now, as Sigma Prime prepped the shuttle to enter transwarp space, the other crew members looked out the shuttle at the massive fleet surrounding the Earth.

The mothership that had filled the sky where the Predacons and Maximals had battled was indeed not the only one of its kind there; two more of the massive ships hovered a little further from Earth's orbit, presumably only to be used during the impending invasion of Cybertron. Even one mothership put any Cybertronian vessel to shame; it was the size of a small moon, with an immeasurable amount of small ships moving to and fro between the three massive structures.

"What was it Rattrap used to say? Oh, yeah… 'We're all gonna die,'" Ramulus muttered.

"Buckle yourselves back down, 'bots," Sigma Prime said, "We're about to enter transwarp space."

* * *

"The shuttle has indeed left," Airraptor stated to the other infested Transformers—and the few Vexorans remaining in the shuttle bay that had not infested a robot of their own—as he flew back down through the Ark's roof hatch and landed on the orange metal floor. "It appears they activated some kind of cloaking field before takeoff."

"It does not matter," Dinobot said. "Those foolish Transformers may have thought they could give us the slip by rendering their ship invisible to our eyes, but nothing can escape our sensors. Our orbital fleet surely has destroyed them by now, if the Transformers even made it that far."

"What should we do with these shells?" Gryphtron asked.

"Destroy them, they are of no further use to us," Dinobot commanded. "It was wonderful irony to see the Transformers essentially destroy themselves, but being in this body for even this minute amount of time is starting to disgust me. Let us head back to the mothership and get ready for the true battle that lies ahead."

"But what about this one?" K-9 said, kicking a very badly injured Scavenger on the ground, who twitched a little from the kick. The Vehicon's optics flickered slightly, but went back to black after a few seconds. "It has an immortal spark."

"Not entirely," Dinobot answered. "Central Command informed me before we left that Unit Scavenger's spark is vulnerable to unstable energon—if a some of it is plunged through his spark, the reaction will extinguish it. We will take care of him after we destroy the rest of these shells."

* * *

"Um… can I go back in the ship?" Bulkhead mumbled to Atlas.

"Just stay here," Atlas said, rolling his optics. "You wouldn't have the leaders of the Maximals AND the Predacons in the same place if they didn't already know what we're here for."

Greeting the group as they exited the Autobot shuttle was an odd mix of Transformers standing on the edges of the landing pad. On one side of the landing pad stood three of the Maximal Elders—Strongarm, Skydive, and Magna Stampede, flanked by at least a dozen big, bulky bodyguards with big, bulky guns. On the other side of the pad stood Shockwave, Barricade, Slugslinger, and Dreadwing, backed up by a similar number of protectors. Given that the last he had heard of Shockwave, the old Decepticon was in prison for life because of crimes against the Autobots, it didn't take long for Atlas to figure out that Shockwave had gained control of the Predacons. From the looks of it, Shockwave had reformatted himself as well—although Shockwave had the familiar one-eyed face that Atlas remembered, the structure of his body was different, from the huge gun that served as his left arm in robot mode to the tank treads on his back and legs. Shockwave was also only the size of a slightly-larger-than-average Predacon, instead of the huge energy-inefficient size he had been when he had been a full-fledged Decepticon.

"Welcome back to the present, Maximals," Shockwave said, with an unusual hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Hey, we're not all Maxies!" Sandstorm said, stepping forward with Injector and Spittor. "We're Predacons, One-eye! We made them 'bots take us along!"

The other Maximals in the group narrowed their eyes at the trio (and some even snarled) as the Predacons made their way over to Shockwave's group.

"Hmm. You showed resourcefulness under pressue," Shockwave said, looking down at his three new Preds. "That will be advantageous in the impending conflict. Very well, you may join my army—"

"Thanks, pardner—"

"--so long as you cease talking," Shockwave continued, his optic flaring briefly for emphasis.

Sandstorm, Injector, and Spittor looked taken aback at first, but quickly nodded their heads and took their positions behind Shockwave.

"Atlas, Bulkhead—I knew you wouldn't perish in your assignment," Magna Stampede, bowing his head slightly in thanks. "But… where are Cliffjumper and the others?"

"Dead," Atlas said, shaking his head. "The Vexoran attack took us completely by surprise—quite an accomplishment, considering the size of their ships. There were also dozens of other Transformers on Earth—we sixteen are all that is left."

"I see," Magna Stampede said sadly. "Assuming we get through the impending invasion in one piece, a ceremony will be held honoring your fallen friends, I assure you."

"Thank you, Magna," Atlas acknowledged. "That… would be most appreciated."

"So, anyone gonna tell us what's going on, or are we just going to stand around talking until the Vexorans pound our faces into the ground?" Ramulus said impatiently.

"Ah, Maximus—from what I've read about you in the crime logs, you haven't changed a bit," Strongarm said, smiling and shaking his head.

"I had sent my subordinates after Atlas' ship, to follow them and find out what they were up to, as their flight during a time of war was suspicious," Shockwave said. "They were about to land on Earth when the Vexorans attacked the planet. They were able to escape without harm, and immediately came back to Cybertron and informed me of the situation. Realizing this threat was more powerful than the Maximals, I contacted the Maximal Elders and we quickly negotiated a truce that is in effect until sixty solar cycles after the conflict is over. Assuming we survive, of course— from what my subordinates have told me about the size of the Vexoran fleet, I estimate only a 0.7 probability of Cybertron making it through this impending invasion without being destroyed. The war amongst factions that we have been engaged in until very recently has left both of our factions with greatly reduced numbers. In addition, it has been very difficult to bring a halt to this war in such a short time—even now, our dispatches have not quite reached to the opposite side of the globe, where the war is still being fought."

"How many Transformers are left?" Sigma Prime asked, fearing the worst.

"Roughly 65 of the population before the war," Shockwave said. "Slightly more of that number is Predacon as opposed to Maximal."

"Wonderful," Sigma grumbled.

"There is, however, one hope—" Skydive started, stepping forwards towards the Beast Warriors.

"It's silly superstition, nothing more!" Barricade interjected angrily. "She wants us to waste our time on some fool's errand while an advanced alien race is standing on our proverbial doorstep!"

"Silence," Shockwave said, backhanding Barricade. "You have not been given permission to speak, Barricade. However, my subordinate is correct—it is not logical to go searching for a legend at a time such as this. Regardless, the Maximal Elders and I have worked out a compromise—three of you will accompany Skydive on this inconsequential mission, at the Elders' insistence. The rest of you will be needed for the real impeding conflict."

"What legend are you talking about, Elder?" Sigma addressed Skydive.

"It was part of the knowledge passed down through the ages. Alpha Trion informed me of this legend before he went offline a few hundred stellar cycles ago. The verse is from the Covenant of Primus-- older than even Alpha Trion himself. It mentions that the Well of Allsparks will 'burn away the Evil Children'."

"The Well of Allsparks is itself a myth, however," Shockwave interjected. "Even assuming that it exists, which I estimate only a 8.4 probability of being correct, we have no idea where it could be, only that it would be nearer to the core of the planet than to the surface."

"The legend also mentions a clue to its location, though," Skydive said. "It is cryptic—"

"As all superstitious nonsense is…" Barricade grumbled, which prompted a punch in the stomach from Dreadwing.

"—and I'm not even sure if these Vexorans are the 'Evil Children' mentioned in the legend or if it refers to some other force we have yet to face, but it is the only option I can see working," Skydive admitted.

"Very well," Sigma Prime said. "Myself, Mirage, and Ramulus will accompany you, Elder."

"What?" Ramulus protested. "I have to go on an Easter Egg Hunt while the rest get in some REAL fighting? C'mon!"

"You're a bounty hunter, Ramulus—because of your occupation, you are far more observant and aware of your surroundings than the average Transformer," Sigma Prime said, "And Mirage will be invaluable in helping us to search areas. You're coming."

Ramulus grumbled, but walked up to Sigma Prime's side along with Mirage.

"The rest of you, we have little time," Strongarm said, his voice urgent. "Do you know anything that could help us in the upcoming battle? Knowledge of the enemy, their weaknesses, anything?"

"Well, Nighteye'll help you out there," Cybershark said, pointing at the Transformer he was referring to. "He's a Vexoran."

The Elders and Shockwave's crew were silent for a moment, digesting the revelation that had just been revealed to them. Finally, Shockwave spoke up.  
"Are you sure he is trustworthy?"

"He's saved our skidplates more than once," Cybershark said, grinning. "The reason he looks like a Transformer is because due to some malfunction with his escape pod— which came from the first Vexoran battleship we destroyed, because—"

"Cybershark, it doesn't matter," Nighteye said, motioning for the Transmetal II shark to stop talking. "It's a story that'll take a long time to tell, and time we don't have. Shockwave, Elders—I will help you in any way I can."

"Hold that thought, mates," Slugslinger said, putting up one hand in a motion for silence as he tapped a communicator on his ear with the other hand, apparently listening to something. "Boss, we've got company—the 'bots back at base just told me that they're detecting some transwarp abnormalities a few thousand miles out from Cybertron. The Vexorans are almost here."

"Slag, that didn't take long," Ramulus cursed.

"Alright then, we've no time to lose!" Strongarm said hurriedly. "Sigma Prime, you and your team go with Skydive! Nighteye, come with Shockwave, Magna Stampede, and myself! The rest of you, get together and start formulating plans and getting together our armies—this is it, 'bots, Cybertron itself is at stake!"

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

"The End of All Ages, Part III: Firestorm"

by Beastbot

"I count five--- wow, I thought we only had three—motherships, about fifty destroyers, and… more fighters than I can count," Nighteye said, counting the ships of various sizes on the screen. The layout on the monitor that he, Shockwave, Magna Stampede, and Strongarm were crowded around showed an image of Cybertron being projected via a satellite feed from the farthest of the planet's two moons. The Vexoran armada had quickly followed the Maximals back to their homeworld, and now their unbelievably enormous fleet nearly obscured all of Cybertron's actual surface from view. No shots had been fired from the ships yet after they had entered normal space five minutes ago, though fighters were starting to be launched from the metropolis-sized motherships and mountain-sized destroyers.

"I think our forces combined have about one-thirtieth of that force," Magna Stampede said, shaking his head. "Hopefully, we can get all of our forces organized before—"

"One of the motherships is firing," Nighteye interrupted as a red glow started to build up from the center of one of the largest ships. It's a fourth of the way around the planet, but it isn't going to be pretty, regardless."

All of the assembled Transformers winced slightly as the mothership fired, and a large explosion emanated from the planet's surface directly below it.

"Well, there goes half of Nova Cronum," Strongarm muttered.

"Enough of this," Shockwave said. "We will accomplish nothing by merely watching them destroy us. It is clear that the motherships must be our primary target, as they are capable of taking out our planet the fastest. Therefore, our first strike should be against one of them—preferably the one next to the mothership that just fired, the one that is closest to our position."

"Brace yourselves, that very mothership is starting to fire!" Nighteye interrupted. "It's still a hundred clicks away, granted, but—"

A fairly loud boom cut off Nighteye, followed shortly afterwards by a rumbling that shook the base they were stationed in, sending several things that weren't bolted down crashing to the floor. Shockwave and Magna Stampede were also knocked on their skidplates.

"As I was saying," Shockwave said, standing up again, "That mothership needs to be targeted, likely by our strongest, most durable units. My two Maximus gestalts will likely be up to the task, as well as Dreadwing and two of my largest soldiers, Tidal Wave and Menasor. Elders, what will you be able to bring to the table?"

"Magnaboss will be able to help out, most likely," Magna Stampede replied, "As well as Omega Supreme and his Omega Sentinels, and Superion Maximus, a recently created gestalt of ours based off of your Maximus technology, Shockwave."

At Magna's mention of this, Shockwave's optic flared, but as always, he showed no emotion in his voice. "Very well then, let us get our troops together as quickly as possible. Nighteye, open a channel to a nearby city named Kaon. Here are the coordinates…"

* * *

"So, what needle in this planet-sized haystack are we supposed to be looking for, anyway?" Ramulus asked Skydive as they, Sigma Prime, and Mirage—all but the latter in beast mode-- found a ramp descending to yet another lower level of Cybertron. Ramulus counted this as the eighth level below the surface.

"She already mentioned it, it's called the Well of Allsparks," Sigma Prime replied.

"No, I mean, what clues should we be looking for?" Ramulus clarified. "A big neon sign, what?"

"The Covenant of Primus mentions that the Well of Allsparks is close to what it calls the 'claw of evil'," Skydive answered. "What that means, I haven't the slightest clue."

"Yeah, I think that's the idea," Ramulus sneered. "So, how many more levels do we need to go down before we start looking for this 'claw of eeeeevil?'"

"Well, the archived maps of Cybertron go down to about the thirty-eighth level, and beyond that no official map exists," Skydive said. "I'd imagine that's where our search will begin."

Ramulus muttered something unintelligible as they headed for the next descending ramp.

* * *

"Do you all understand your mission?" Shockwave addressed the large—literally—group of Transformers he and the Elders had assembled. His voice was louder than normal as he struggled to be heard over the firefights taking place above as the Vexoran fighters started to attack the planet and flying Transformers from both factions responded in kind. Not to mention the fact that every few minutes, another loud boom sounded from over the horizon as the nearest mothership fired yet again on another relatively untouched spot in a neighboring city.

All of the giant Transformers, as well as the various Maximus and Magnaboss gestalt components and Dreadwing, nodded.

"And do you all understand yours?" Strongarm asked, turning towards the other Earth escapees that were able to fly, as well as Slugslinger. Again, all of the addressed Transformers nodded—although it took Waspinator a few seconds of quaking in fear before he followed his teammates' action.

"We are to serve as a distraction for the fighters, no more," Obsidian affirmed. "I will be sure to keep the others in formation and close together, I promise you."

"Good," Shockwave replied. "Then there is no time to lose. For Cybertron!"

"For Cybertron!" All of the assembled Transformers yelled back. Immediately, all of the assigned Transformers took to the air, leaving just the two Elders and Shockwave watching their troops launch towards the sky.

"May Primus help us…" Strongarm whispered as he saw his troops enter the cloud of clashing Vexoran fighters and Transformers in the skies above.

* * *

"They want a distraction, do they? Well, one distraction COMIN' UP!" Slugslinger cackled, as his jet mode split in two to reveal a very large energy blaster. After a few seconds of charging up, a huge beam of energy shot out, clipping off two enemy fighters' wings and completely annihilating a third.

"Let me add another 'distraction' to the tally!" Cybershark smirked, powering up his fin-arm and firing off an energy blast of his own.

"I tell ya, mates, I'm almost glad these Vex-whatevers showed up!" Slugslinger laughed. "I've been bored out of my skull lately, this is just the mayhem I needed!"

"Well, at least SOMEONE having fun…" Waspinator whined as he nimbly dodged a fighter laser aimed at him. Waspinator suddenly stopped in mid-air and stood still for a few seconds.

"Wait… Wazzzpinator… DODGED blast! HahahaHAAAA! Wazzzzpinator invinzzzible! Take THIZ, fighter-botz!" Waspinator giddily shrieked before firing his rifle rapidly at a Vexoran fighter. One particularly well-aimed shot penetrated the engine, and the whole fighter exploded, spiraling to the ground in flames.

"Good job, Waspy—one down, only about two hundred million to go," Bulkhead shouted as he unleashed a barrage of missile fire at some incoming fighters. Two or three were incinerated by the blast, but the rest punched through the cloud of fire, shooting their main guns at Bulkhead. Taken by surprise, Bulkhead wasn't able to get out of the way in time, and the laser fire peppered his chassis.

"Gah! I hope this isn't a sign of things to come…" Bulkhead groaned as he retaliated.

"That's the problem!" Injector yelled while dodging an incoming fighter and firing back. "Even if we take down a hundred before we go down ourselves, we'll still lose! How the slag are we supposed to 'distract' this many fighters!"

"Everyone, out of the way now!" Obsidian's voice suddenly came on over everyone's comlinks.

Suddenly, a huge green-and-gray hand swatted away two fighters that were pestering Atlas and Bulkhead, sending them crashing into another nearby fighter and exploding in a large fiery ball.

"TIDAL WAVE GROW TIRED OF WAITING!" The 800-foot-tall Predacon behemoth roared, firing a round of his chest guns at another group of fighters, most of whom barely dodged. "MOVE ALREADY!"

"Oh, yeah, that might work…" Injector said to himself.

"Well, there goes that part of the plan…" Obsidian groaned. "Alright, everyone, quick change of plans! Clear a pathway for the other giants so they can all follow Tidal Wave to the mothership!"

"Clearing!" Injector replied, firing at an incoming group of fighters. One took a direct hit to the cockpit, but the others nimbly dodged Injector's potshots, and fired a barrage of lasers back at the Predacon. Injector barely dodged the first salvo, but the second hit him in the chest and wings full force.

"Grraaccck…" Injector gurgled as mech fluid started to spurt from his mouth. Choking, the fuzor plunged to the ground far below.

"Injector!" Slugslinger yelled, changing course to dive after the falling Predacon.

"Forget him, Slugslinger! That's an order!" Obsidian quickly yelled. "We all know there's going to be casualities in this battle, what matters is getting the giants to the mothership!"

Slugslinger growled, but did as he was commanded. "I should be givin' YOU orders, mate…"

"So what we do to get fighter-botz out of way?" Waspinator asked, yelping as a laser shot nearly clipped his left wing.

"Everyone who isn't in vehicle mode, transform!" Obsidian commanded, as he, Waspinator, Cybershark, and Atlas all transformed into their vehicle or beast-vehicle forms.

"Now, everyone cluster together, and point their guns skyward!" Obsidian yelled. Reluctantly, the other Transformers under his command flew to within a close proximity of each other and faced towards the huge mothership looming miles overhead.

"Isn't this kinda… you know… making us a HUGE target!" Cybershark said.

"We'll only be like this for a millicycle. Everyone, FIRE! FULL FORCE!" Obsidian yelled, and all of the assembled Transformers under his command unleashed a huge blast upwards, a massive combination of missile, laser, and electrical energy fire. As expected, the huge blast incinerated dozens of fighters above them (along with the occasional fighting civilian Transformer, which Obsidian winced over, but mentally chalked them up as acceptable losses), and cleared a temporary pathway most of the way to the mothership.

As Cybershark had astutely pointed out, however, a few fighters to the side of the group took advantage of the situation and unleashed a barrage of missiles at the metal bullseye.

"Everyone, scatter now, quickly!" Obsidian commanded. Most did, but Atlas, who was in the center of the formation, took many of the missiles. Grunting, Atlas plummeted from the sky, a trail of smoke following him downwards.

"Giants, move, now!" Obsidian yelled.

With a roar, the assembled group of many of Cybertron's most powerful warriors rocketed upwards, many on their own power, but a few—such as Constructicon Maximus and Menasor—via large jetpacks strapped to their backs.

"Atlas…" Bulkhead mumbled, closing his optics so he wouldn't see his leader hit the ground.

"FOR CYBERTRON!" Magnaboss yelled as he flew up through the atmosphere, at the head of the group consisting of Dreadwing as well as the gestalts Bruticus Maximus, Superion Maximus, and Constructicon Maximus, and the giants Tidal Wave, Menasor, Omega Supreme, and the four Omega Sentinels.

"FOR CYBERTRON!" the massive group behind Magnaboss echoed.

"For Blackarachnia…" Magnaboss said more quietly to himself.

* * *

"Our fighters are breaking through their aerial defenses over nearly all of the planet now, High Guardian Zaknos," a Vexoran general said. "However…"

"However, what?" Zaknos said irritably. "You cannot tell me this race poses a serious threat to us. After all, it has been told to us by the Master Himself that we will—"

"No, not at all, sir," the Vexoran general continued. Typing in a few keys on the mothership main bridge's console, the monitor screen that had showed a planet-wide view suddenly switched to a camera on the underside of the ship, which showed twelve giant Transformers and one normal-sized Transformer flying up towards the ship, making short work of any Vexoran fighters in their way. "It's just… we've got a group of some exceptionally powerful Transformers heading directly towards this mothership."

"So?" Zaknos said. "Exceptionally powerful they may be, but they still cannot stand up to the might of a Vexoran mothership."

"Assuredly, sir," the general acknowledged. "However, from the results of the Transformers' earlier experience on Tarad's battleship have shown, this is a not a race to be underestimated. Though I am still certain we will win, to be sure, for safety precautions it may be wise to transfer you to another mothership—after all, only the Master Himself outranks you, sir. It would be most unfortunate if these Transformers were to destroy a small section of the mothership that you might be inhabiting, however small of a chance that is."

"Hmmm… perhaps you may have a point," Zaknos admitted. "Very well. Prepare a pod for my departure immediately, as well as the rest of my personal guard. We will fly towards the next nearest mothership."

* * *

Swatting aside another two fighters, the assault team of Transformers landed on the lower side of the Vexoran mothership.

"Omega Sentinels, clear the area, and take out any automatic defenses!" commanded Omega Supreme. The Sentinels wordlessly obeyed, as they always did.

"WE'VE GOT AN INCOMING DESTROYER!" Magnaboss thundered, pointing towards an ever-closer Vexoran ship that was brimming with weapons.

"Tidal Wave, Bruticus, Superion, deal with it!" Omega Supreme commanded. "Magnaboss, help the Sentinels and guard this area from further attacks! Menasor, Constructicon, work on drilling a hole through the mothership's outer armor!"

"Aye, don't get yer wires inna bunch, I'm workin' on it!" Menasor replied, in his usual thick Irish accent, before activating his drill-arms and starting to shred away the outer layer of the mothership's armor. Constructicon Maximus, meanwhile, started to clear away the rubble that Menasor was shredding out of the mothership.

"Meanwhile, I'm going to divide and conquer!" Omega Supreme stated, before transforming into his two separate vehicle modes. His futuristic crane half began to help Constructicon Maximus with the clearing of the debris, while his battleship half flew in the direction of the destroyer.

Dreadwing normally would have been perturbed that he had been ignored while Omega Supreme was giving out orders—granted, he was easy to miss, given that he was the only normal-sized Transformer among the group, but still-- but something else inside the ship had distracted him. While the other Maximals and Predacons around him fought like mad, he simply stared at the mothership that Menasor was drilling into.

Something was in there, he could feel it… Something… familiar….

* * *

"Woah!" Superion Maximus said, narrowly dodging a massive blast of energy that zipped by him. "Watch out 'bots, those things come at you quick!"

"DESTROYER DOES NOT SCARE BRUTICUS!" Bruticus Maximus bellowed, before diving towards the front of the huge spacecraft. Roaring, Tidal Wave followed.

"We've got a lot of firepower on our own, you know," replied Omega Supreme's battleship half as it flew past Superion, its several guns blazing at surrounding fighters.

"True, but they still outpower us exponentially. Maybe giving them more smaller, faster targets will help even the odds…" Superion muttered, before dividing into his five smaller component robots, who each transformed into their jet modes and flew towards the destroyer at full speed.

Tidal Wave, being slightly faster than Bruticus Maximus, landed on the top of the destroyer first. The many guns firing at him did dent his armor some, but to such an enraged behemoth they felt like little more than bee stings. Roaring again, Tidal Wave slammed his fist down on a nearby gun, obliterating it and crumpling a portion of the ship's armor beneath it as well. Still, even as huge as he was, Tidal Wave looked like a mere flea in comparison to the massive destroyer. Turning to another gun emplacement, Tidal Wave continued on his rampage as Bruticus landed too and followed Tidal Wave's example. Bruticus didn't do quite as much damage, however, since as big as he was, he was only waist-high to Tidal Wave.

Omega Supreme saw the destroyer's massive gun turn towards Tidal Wave a moment too late.

"TIDAL WAVE, LOOK—"

The sound of the destroyer's main energy blaster going off cut Omega short. Tidal Wave turned around in the direction of the gun, but he couldn't react in time—the energy blast annhiliated his entire upper body.

Superion's various components circled around the offending energy cannon, strafing it so fast the cannon couldn't get a good bead on them. Tidal Wave's lower half fell to the "ground" of the destroyer with a loud rumble, smoke trailing from the former behemoth's severed waist.

Omega Supreme zoomed full speed towards the energy cannon, weapons blazing. After a few seconds, either he or one of Superion's component 'bots—Omega wasn't sure which—must have hit a vital spot in the cannon, and the huge cannon exploded into a million pieces.

"Fighter bays are opening!" Storm Jet, Superion's main component, yelled.

"Great, as if we didn't have enough problems…" Omega Supreme mumbled.

"Attention everyone, I've gotten through!" Menasor's voice suddenly said over everyone's comlink. "Get back here now and get ready for th' big push!"

"Well, scratch this!" Storm Jet said, signaling his other teammates to jet out back towards the mothership. "The big cannon's been neutralized anyways."

"TIME FOR SOME REAL SMASHING NOW!" Bruticus Maximus roared before taking off from his position further down on the destroyer. Bruticus had several burnt spots on his body from the myriad laser blasts he had suffered, but otherwise looked functional.

* * *

"Attention Vexorans! Hull breach in Sector A-13! The ship will heal itself over time, but not fast enough! All available personnel, to that area, immediately! Prepare to defend the mothership!"

As the speakers in the prison hallway went silent and most of the guards hurried off to defend their ship, Scourge peeked out from between the energy bars eagerly. Most bars could not hold Vexorans in their natural forms—as Scourge and Scarem were now back in due to their shape-shifting nature-- but these particular bars emitted a special short-range energy pulse that prevented the material Vexorans were made of from stretching or bending much.

"Now's our chance, Scarem," Scourge whispered. "The guards are few and distracted."

"Um… how exactly do you plan on getting us out of here?" Scarem stated. "In case you haven't noticed, those bars are still holding us in…"

"Us, yes," Scourge grinned. "However, our associate should have little problem escaping her bonds, especially with a certain… program I installed in her for just such an emergency."

"ECLIPSE, NOW!" Scourge shouted quickly.

Before the guards could react, a huge explosion went off two cells down from the one where Scourge and Scarem were being held. The huge fireball blew through the two cells in between the three very quickly, and annhiliated all of the unprotected guards in the hallway. Scourge and Scarem, pressed flat against the floor, escaped the direct blunt of the blast… only to have the right steel wall of their cell fall down on top of them.

Of course, by now the generators for the energy bars had been destroyed as well, and Scourge and Scarem were easily able to slither out from under the burnt, warped steel wall and reform into their normal shapes.

"An important lesson to remember, Scarem," Scourge smirked, "is that when you build an automaton completely loyal to you, always remember to include a self-destruct mechanism for use in dire situations. Now… let's get out of here."

* * *

"They're sending out drop pods," Nighteye told the others, pointing at the hundreds of small little gray dots— at least, they looked like dots, considering the distance they were from the camera view that was being fed to the monitor—starting to fly off from the bottom of the destroyers and motherships. "It won't be long until we have a full-scale ground invasion on our hands, as well."

"Tell the group of flyers to return here," Magna Stampede ordered. "This fortress, being such an obvious target, will no doubt need a great deal of defending. Our ground troops and Metroplex will not be enough."

"Relaying orders now," Nighteye answered.

"I only hope Nightviper will be okay in our old headquarters," Strongarm fretted. "The old Maximal was needed there to keep things in order in the area, but there's already been two shots fired from the motherships aimed at that general sector of the planet, so I don't know…"

"Nightviper is not our primary concern at the moment," Shockwave said. "This fortress is. I will gather the ground forces. If you will excuse me…"

"Red Alert is reporting massive casualties among the flight-capable Transformers in the area, we've lost roughly 25 of the local population in just the last Earth half-hour," Nighteye said. "He and Tow-Line said that they'll continue to treat as many Maximals and Predacons as they can, but they're severely low on staff and… oh, slag…"

"What? What is it?" Strongarm asked.

"There's an absolutely massive structure starting to come in through transwarp space right now, the readings are saying… it's the size of a large moon…."

"What, do they have some kind of super-mothership?" Magna Stampede said.

"Worse... it's a planet buster."

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

"The End of All Ages, Part IV: Countdown to Oblivion"

by Beastbot

"Well, here we are, the thirty-ninth level below the surface," Ramulus stated, looking around as they all jumped down to land on the old, warped metal that served as the floor. The ramp descending from the thirty-eighth level above had broken off about halfway down, presumably ages ago.

"Ugh," Sigma Prime grunted as he landed on the floor on all four feet. "That put more stress on my knee servos than I thought it would…"

"Well, it WAS about a fifty-foot jump…" Skydive said as she flapped her wings and landed beside Ramulus and Sigma Prime. Mirage teleported down to where they all were a split second later. "You probably should've just flown down."

"Probably," Sigma Prime said, stretching his legs. "Now, since we're at the first level of Cybertron that hasn't been mapped since ancient times… where to from here?"

"I have no idea," Skydive sighed, shrugging. "This 'claw of evil' mentioned in the Covenant of Primus is all I have to go by. It could be anywhere on this floor or any floor below it, all the way down to the core of the planet."

"How far down to the core are we, exactly?" Ramulus asked.

"We are 90.6 miles from the core," Mirage droned.

"What? How do you know that?" Ramulus questioned, an eyeridge raised.

"I have been observing the height of each level as we descended, and subtracting that from the known diameter of the planet. We are 90.6 miles from the core."

"Yeah, you already said that," Ramulus said, rolling his optics. "So… what, that leaves us with… well, a slaggin' ton of levels to search through then, doesn't it?"

"Well, I can't imagine it being VERY close to the core," Skydive said. "This 'claw of evil' had to have been built after the planet had been around for a few thousand years, after all, otherwise it would have been included in the Covenant of Primus as a reference point to the Well of Allsparks. So we can probably eliminate at least the 20 miles' worth of levels nearest to the core."

"Why does that not make me feel any better?" Ramulus sighed.

"Well, we may not have that great of a shot of finding it before the war above has ended," Sigma Prime admitted, "But we've got to try. Ramulus, Mirage, you both go in different directions and cover as much territory as you can, and make sure to report back at least every twenty cycles. I'll go with Skydive down another level and start searching there, and we'll just keep combing the levels as thoroughly as we can. Understood?"

"All I can say is, you're lucky I have a hoverboard," Ramulus stated, transforming into robot mode and hopping on his aforementioned horn-hoverboard. "All this torn-up metal flooring down here, this would've been something else to traverse if I had to walk across it…"

* * *

The Vexoran troops scattered as a huge drill-arm tore through the metal flooring, followed by the rest of Menasor's enormous body.

"A'right 'bots, I'm through!" Menasor yelled through the hole he had just created. "Let's get this place torn apart, eh?"

The Vexoran troops yelled something in their own language and fired their weapons at Menasor, who merely shrugged off the minor damage and slammed his claw-arm into the ground, sending the troops flying. None of the troops were killed by the strike, however—most just splattered on the walls and reformed, while the one caught in Menasor's strike merely oozed out from under his arm and took his normal form, only now with his arms formed into sharp, black blades.

"Aye, so y'folks're being stubborn, are ye?" Menasor laughed as Constructicon Maximus, Dreadwing, and Magnaboss entered the large corridor through the hole drilled in the side of the mothership. "Well, so are we!"

Aiming his two chest lasers at the Vexorans scattered before him, Menasor let fly a few blasts, annhiliating a Vexoran who wasn't quite fast enough.

"Spread out, 'bots!" Menasor told his three teammates who had just entered into the mothership, as well as the other 'bots that were piling in. "Let's not keep ourselves confined to one wee place 'n the ship!"

"Confirmed," an Omega Sentinel replied, right before flying up to the ceiling and punching a huge hole through it, right into the next floor of the mothership. Most of the other 'bots followed him with various war cries.

Dreadwing, however, continued to stare in the direction of the center of the mothership, his eyes focused on the ceiling so intently that a 'bot who didn't know any better would've sworn Dreadwing had x-ray vision.

_It… no, this isn't possible… these… Vexorans aren't Transformers, this can't be… Master!_

Ignoring the battles going on around him, Dreadwing built up the purple fiery aura around him and punched through the ceiling at a location further down the hallway than the hole the Omega Sentinel had created, heading directly toward the center of the mothership and annhiliating any Vexoran caught in his path along the way.

"You puny Vexorans think ye can stop me, eh?" Menasor said, revving up his rill-arm. "Well, permit me to prove you—huh?"

A loud, blaring alarm suddenly sounded through the ship, and the lights in the hallway started blinking red. Looking around, Menasor caught the culprit—a Vexoran further down the long corridor had managed to activate the mothership's security alarm.

"Your security system won't save ye from us, puny!" Menasor said, firing a barrage of lasers at the Vexoran, who nimbly dodged the first few but was destroyed by the second wave of shots.

No sooner had the Vexoran trooper slumped to the ground, however, then something in Vexoran blared from speakers—or at least, the Vexoran's equivalent of speakers—all throughout the hallway, and several guns popped out of their emplacements from the ceiling and walls.

"Aye, so you think a few wee lasers'll stop Menasor, eh? You aliens continue to underestimate us!"

Slamming his claw-arm into a gun and firing his chest-lasers at a few others, Menasor managed to destroy the few nearest to him, but he felt a slight sting as one got a shot off at his drill arm.

"Oh, wow, I barely felt anythin'! At this rate, you Vexorans'll never—" Menasor stopped as he tried to turn his arm around to take out the gun behind him. Try as he might, the servos in that arm were suddenly unable to respond to his internal commands.

"Oh, for the love of—Shockwave didna say anything about this!" Menasor groaned. Pivoting the other way, Menasor slammed his working arm into the gun while simultaneously kicking away a Vexoran who was starting to sink his arm-blades into the giant Predacon's foot.

Unfortunately, he wasn't able to turn around in time as a gun further down the hall fired at his other arm, freezing it in place as well.

"Aw, smelt it all!" Menasor cursed as he turned around to see the grinning Vexorans advancing, their arms shaped into various sharp weapons. "You aliens are really gratin' on me nerves, you know that?"

As he felt another slight sting at the back of his right leg, Menasor yelled in frustration and head-butted a Vexoran that had jumped onto his chest, only to have three more start to climb up his now-useless leg.

* * *

"Wait," Sigma Prime said, holding up one of his front paws to motion Skydive to stop. "Something's not right here…"

"What do you mean?" Skydive asked, transforming into robot mode and setting herself down on the rusty ground.

"I don't… entirely know…" Sigma Prime said, sniffing around. "It's almost as if—"

Suddenly, Sigma Prime stopped, his head suddenly perking up and looking further down the corridor they were heading down.

"What? What is it?" Skydive said, unsheathing her claw-blades.

"We need to go down this corridor, now, and go down two more levels as soon as we are able. Something… something's drawing me there," Sigma Prime answered, taking off down the corridor.

"Wait! What is drawing—" Skydive stopped talking as Sigma Prime's form was lost in the darkness ahead.

"What just happened?" the pterosaur sighed before transforming back into beast mode and taking off after Sigma Prime as fast as she could.

"Ramulus, Mirage, regroup at coordinates 7, 45, 32. Sigma Prime's onto… something," Skydive said into her comlink.

"Acknowledged."

"You're the Elder."

* * *

Nighteye grunted as two of the monitors he was looking at suddenly flickered and then went to static.

"Well, those blasts the motherships have been firing at the planet have now broken our communication lines to the southern hemisphere of Cybertron, including the backup ones. It'll still be a while before the planet buster takes its proper position and preps itself—a device that massive takes quite a while to power up. Still, once that thing's fired up in roughly a megacycle—it's all over."

"Well, we'll just have to hope that not only will our strike team take out the nearest mothership, but they'll have enough left over to take out the planet buster as well," Strongarm sighed.

"The planet buster's defenses make the mothership's look puny in comparison," Magna Stampede pointed out. "The likelihood of that happening is… infinitesimal, to say the least."

"Well, we've pulled off miracles before…" Strongarm said.

"Not of this magnitude," Shockwave said, the heavy doors to the main chamber of the Citadel closing behind him as he entered. "The pods from the alien ships have landed on Cybertron, and the ground invasion is quickly overwhelming our forces. I have summoned our troops, as well as Metroplex, to the Citadel in preparation for the Vexoran assault here, but I estimate a 0.0004 probability of us defeating them holed up in here. Unfortunately, I see no other option available to us at the moment."

"Aw, for Primus' sake…" Magna Stampede muttered. "Even when slaggin' UNICRON attacked the planet, at least we only had one target to worry about…"

"Well… guess we're just gonna have to hope that Sigma Prime and them find whatever they're looking for, before it's too late," Nighteye said. "Though at present, that seems even less likely than us winning by conventional means…"

* * *

"What? What's so important that you had to drag us all this way? Sigma finally find something?" Ramulus said as he and Mirage flew and drove up to where Skydive was standing.

"He said he was going on ahead… he insisted that something, he didn't know what, was drawing him here," Skydive explained. "He shouldn't be too far from here, he left just a few clicks ago."

"Well, let's go follow him them!" Ramulus said impatiently.

Skydive nodded and they all went in the direction Sigma Prime had gone.

It wasn't very far of a trip, though—within a minute, Sigma Prime had come within view of their infrared vision.

"What's he standing there f—BY PRIMUS!" Skydive exclaimed, landing on the ground and transforming back into her robot mode. Ramulus and Mirage stopped next to her, gaping at the huge white digit that was plunged through the corridor ahead. It was so massive, Skydive at first thought it had been a white wall until she noticed a joint in the "wall" about halfway between the ceiling and the floor, as well as the fact that the "wall" narrowed a bit towards the floor it punctured through and that there was a couple inches of the tunnel on one side that hadn't been punctured through by the "wall".

"It's one of the fingers of Unicron," Sigma Prime, now in robot mode, said, turning around to face his teammates.

"It must have shot into the planet after Unicron went kablooey and punctured it so deep that the finger stuck way down in here and the levels above collapsed on top of it," Ramulus observed.

"I think this qualifies as the 'claw of evil'," Sigma Prime said, smirking as best he could with a faceplate for a mouth.

"Well, then the Well of Allsparks can't be too far from here," Skydive said, her optics refusing to leave the massive digit punched through the corridor in front of her. "We'd better spread out again and start searching."

"Oh joy…" Ramulus muttered.

"Don't bother," Sigma Prime said, his eyes glowing brightly. "Unicron's finger isn't what I'm being drawn to. And since whatever's calling me is in the near vicinity, from what I can tell, that likely means it's the Well of Allsparks."

"But… why would it be drawing you here if you've never even seen the Well of Allsparks before anyways?" Ramulus asked.

"I haven't the faintest idea," Sigma Prime said, sighing. "Still, that doesn't matter right now. The Well of Allsparks isn't far at all from the other side of this finger… unfortunately, that means we're going to have to make our own way through this thing."

"Analyzing probability of ceiling collapse based upon possible pathways through digit," Mirage said, his optics focused on the humongous finger in front of him. "Waiting…. Analyzing complete. Best possible pathway—right side of the corridor, two meters from the wall—only 9.57 chance of a collapse if caution is taken."

"Well, you heard the Walking Calculator," Ramulus said, charging up his gun. "Let's get to blasting!"

* * *

"CONSTRUCTICON MAXIMUS' ENERGY SIGNATURE HAS JUST DISAPPEARED FROM MY SCANNERS," Magnaboss thundered before firing his missiles at a wall and the couple of hapless Vexorans caught in between the gestalt and his target.

"Great, now we've got him, Tidal Wave, Menasor, and all but one of my Sentinels joined together in the Great Scrapheap," Omega Supreme grunted, right before his head split off from his body and took out the automated defense guns that were immobilizing the rest of his chassis. As soon as his Headmaster had completed the task, it immediately rejoined with the larger body. "How slagging big is this mothership, anyway? It seems like we've been fighting all stellar cycle."

"WHO CARES?" Bruticus Maximus roared before smashing one of his fists into another automated gun. "ALL IT MEANS IS THERE MORE FOR BRUTICUS MAXIMUS TO DESTROY!"

"I care, for one," Storm Jet answered as he swooped around in jet mode, quickly firing at Vexorans and gun emplacements and then turning away before they could get in a clean shot. "A force this massive is whittling even us down, slowly but surely. Terradive has already bought it, and if another of my teammates goes down, our combined form will be all but useless if we need to link together again. I think it was a mistake to let Constructicon Maximus and the other Sentinels go off as another group, it's just allowing them to whittle us down faster."

"I don't want to confine us all to the same area of the ship," Omega Supreme insisted before following Magnaboss through the blown-open ceiling and up into the mothership's next floor, where a fresh batch of enemies and defenses awaited them. "It would be too easy for the Vexorans to either take us out with a massive show of force or blow up that part of the ship if we did go that route. Better to take our chances this way."

"Well, our chances aren't looking so good," Storm Jet said right as a stray blast clipped his left wing. "Urrgh, I can't fly like this! Transform!"

Transforming into his robot mode, Storm Jet landed on the ground. Taking out his pulse rifle, the Aerialbot started to blast away at incoming Vexorans, but they were advancing faster then he and the other Autobots could fend them off.

"Our chances REALLY aren't looking so good…" Treadshot noted.

"THE LAST OMEGA SENTINEL'S ENERGY SIGNATURE HAS VANISHED FROM MY SCANNERS," Magnaboss boomed solemnly.

"Well, then it appears that we're the last team still active, 'bots," Omega Supreme noted. "Let's give 'em the Pit, then, and full speed towards the main reactor!"

"THAT'S UNNECESSARY," Magnaboss stated, his attention diverted to his internal readings. "ALTHOUGH HIS ENERGY SIGNATURE HAD DISAPPEARED FROM MY SCANNERS SOON AFTER HE ENTERED THE MOTHERSHIP WITH US, DREADWING'S SIGNATURE HAS RE-APPEARED. HE HAS JUST ENTERED THE REACTOR ROOM."

"What? That's impossible!" Storm Jet exclaimed, pausing to take out a gun emplacement that had nearly shot off one of his legs. "How could he get there so quickly, especially since he just took off by himself, despite being ordered by Omega Supreme not to?"

"I AM UNCERTAIN."

"Well, you'll learn soon enough!" Barricade cackled as the Bruticus Maximus gestalt split apart into its five components. "Combaticons, disengage!"

"What the slag—" Treadshot started to curse, just as Barricade and his four subordinates pressed a small device on their wrists. A split second later, the five remaining Decepticons had disappeared from view, teleported away.

"Dreadwing's powers are greater than Shockwave told us," Omega Supreme grunted as an energy blast immobilized his left arm. "I think, perhaps, that Shockwave had ordered Dreadwing to do something the slaggin' cyclops had kept secret from the Elders… Everyone, back the way we came, and hurry!"

* * *

Dreadwing burst into the mothership's reactor chamber, a purple, indestructible aura surrounding him as he surveyed the room, optics blazing. With his aura surrounding him, he had made a beeline towards the reactor room, blowing through any weapons, Vexorans, and walls in his way as if they were little more than pieces of tissue paper.

The formidable defenses and Vexoran personnel stationed in the reactor room immediately opened fire on the Unicron-spawn-turned-Decepticon, but Dreadwing merely shrugged off the barrage and fired off huge blasts of purple energy all around, eliminating the defenses in a matter of seconds.

What really concerned him was the pulsing, yellow energy emanating from the heavily shielded reactor core in the center of the room. It wasn't mere energy…

_Unicron,_ Dreadwing thought, directing his mental utterance at the reactor core. It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

_Ah,_ _the turncoat, _the reactor core energy replied back, Unicron's thoughts a booming, almost deafening presence inside Dreadwing's core processor. _I thought it would only be a matter of time before you realized whom the True Guiding Force behind the Vexorans was. I made you well._

_Too well, _Dreadwing replied, his optics narrowing. _You were wrong to give me individual thought, Master. It didn't take much for me to realize your true plans for the Transformers race, and that you would have no need for me after your goals were completed. Hence my defecting from your ranks all those millennia ago._

_I am not one to ignore my mistakes. You were a mistake. I see that now. Fortunately, you are a mistake that is soon to be rectified._

_You do indeed know your creation well, _Dreadwing replied, inwardly smirking. _So, before I end our last conversation, I must ask—why?_

_You know full well why. I am not one to ignore my mistakes. Attacking Cybertron directly was a mistake-- I underestimated Primus' children. It was a mistake to try to emulate his creations, thus I decided to create my own race, totally loyal to me. I gave them the power and guided them to discover the technology to manipulate time itself. They came to believe, via my guidance, that it was their destiny to be keepers of the time stream itself. Over time, by keeping the time stream 'pure and unchanged,' they were in fact keeping events spiraling, eventually, towards complete entropy. Entropy, of course, being my sustenance. The Transformers' developing of transwarp technology was a hindrance to my plans—until, of course, my Vexoran race discovered Primus' children on prehistoric Earth. At long last, I realized, the war between Primus' and my children was at hand, and despite it taking me countless millennia to develop my Vexoran race, the final battle would occur only a few hundred years after I attacked Cybertron in the first place!_

_The time stream in indeed a funny thing, _Dreadwing agreed. _Especially if you are a god that can create pocket dimensions and time streams to conduct your own experiments in. I must admit, my mind cannot fully comprehend the distortions to the time stream you pulled off to create this outcome._

_And I would not expect a mere mortal such as yourself to, _Unicron affirmed. _Regardless, you can certainly comprehend the situation now before you. My forces are poised on the brink of finally defeating Primus' children, their only true competition to control of the universe, and the acceleration to complete entropy. By all means, complete the task that Shockwave assigned you. Your species is mere hours away from extinction, and the eradication of such a tiny fraction of my children will have no effect on the outcome whatsoever. And you know full well that you cannot destroy me. I comprise the very energy, the very lifeforce of the Vexorans. And energy cannot be destroyed, only converted from one form to another._

_Then allow me to be a willing participant in the processes of the universe, _Dreadwing thought as he started to overload his systems.

* * *

Sigma Prime painfully lifted his head, looking his enemy square in the eyes, his optics full of hatred.

They had been so close. They had found the Well of Allsparks—it had only been a few clicks' travel from Unicron's claw. A large, blue glowing circle of ancient Cybertronian glyphs sat inscribed in the middle of the underground chamber, with countless other glyphs carved into the walls and on a gigantic, ancient Transformer statue that towered over the Well. Skydive had quickly set to using her knowledge of ancient Cybertronian to translate the glyphs. She had managed to get as far as determining that they were instructions on opening the Well before they had been attacked. Given that their full attention had been on the awe-inspiring room, they had been taken completely by surprise. Skydive and Mirage both lay slumped together, pools of mech fluid scattered around their bodies, which had been cut in two before they could react. Ramulus had managed to get a few shots off before he too was struck, and now he sat slumped nearby, still online but fading fast.

Scourge returned Sigma Prime's stare of hatred, pushing one of his arms, which he had morphed into a blade, deeper into Sigma's chest. "Sorry, Prime, but your journey to save your race ends here. The Well of Allsparks belongs to us now."

To be concluded…


	5. Chapter 5

"The End of All Ages, Part V: When Heroes Are Born"

by Beastbot

"_Something's getting in the way_

_Something's just about to break_

_I will try to find my place_

_In the diary of Jane_"

-_The Diary of Jane_, Breaking Benjamin

"Everyone inside, now!" Obsidian commanded, motioning for the rest of his team to take refuge inside the citadel. "Metroplex can't hold out forever!"

Indeed, the giant defender of the citadel was faltering under the thousands of Vexorans that were assaulting the behemoth. Metroplex continued to fight valiantly, vaporizing dozens of the aliens at a time with his huge axe that also functioned as a giant laser rifle, but by now the Vexorans nearly had complete control of the surface of Cybertron. They were massing in the citadel plaza far faster than Metroplex could kill them, and although the damage they were inflicting on him was happening at a fairly slow pace, it was steadily increasing. Currently, Metroplex's right leg had failed him, so he was forced to continue fighting while kneeling on the ground.

"Wazzzpinator not want to die! Wazzzpinator haz planz!" Waspinator panicked as he quickly flew through the Citadel entryway. He was partially covered in scorch marks and burns from the lengthy fight outside, but otherwise looked none the worse for a wear—quite an accomplishment for the wasp-bot, to be sure.

"We all have plans, mate!" Slugslinger replied, transforming from jet to robot as he landed inside the main citadel doors with the rest of their cobbled-together team. "Unfortunately, it looks like those slaggin' aliens are gettin' the best of us! There's simply too many of 'em!"

"Everyone, PUSH!" Strika commanded, and all of the assembled Transformers lined up behind the main Citadel doors and began pushing with all their might. Slowly but surely, the main doors grinded shut, and Strika, Bulkhead, and Sandstorm began to bar the doors shut.

"Well, now what do we do,

Now where do we go?

This might slow 'em down,

But we'll still be mashed to dough!" Spittor asked.

"True, but we need to buy as much time as possible, just in case our backup plan, which I must admit is quite a long shot, does come to fruition," Obsidian replied. "Strika, Sandstorm, Bulkhead—when you're finished barring the doors, come meet us in the main planning center where Shockwave, Nighteye, and the Maximal Elders are. We'll make our stand—hopefully not our last stand—there."

* * *

"What… how?" Sigma Prime managed to grunt out. _Just keep him talking, keep him talking… while you try to figure a way out of this mess…_

"I discovered something from sifting through the vast amount of data left in the computers at the old Vexoran ruins on Earth, you see," Scourge explained, taking the bait. "They held records of every experiment we Vexorans have ever done on your species, including the creation of _you_, Sigma Prime." At Scourge's emphasis of the word "you", the Vexoran dug his blade-hand into Sigma's chest even further, twisting it further as he did so. Sigma Prime cried out in pain, but otherwise kept silent.

"The original intent for your creation was to create a faux Prime that we could use to infiltrate the Maximals and destroy Cybertron from the inside out," Scourge continued. "However…. I came across a few lines of your programming code that seemed… out of place. After studying the code, I came to the realization that one of our kind had betrayed us and had, in fact, installed in you the programming necessary to make you the next, GENUINE Prime for your race! Installed in your programming was a "sixth sense," of sorts, that would activate if you ever got near any of your kind's ancient holy places, such as this Well of Allsparks. I spent many weeks trying to figure out that part of your programming code, and from it finally managed to extract from it the location of the Well of Allsparks itself! I WAS prepared to tell my superiors all about it on the way to destroy Cybertron, but those misguided morons arrested Scarem and myself as soon as we boarded! Can you imagine? After all we had DONE for them! Thus, I figured the only way to truly stop you in time was to get here myself. And get here I did."

"Well, enough with the exposition," Scourge grinned. "Scarem, get over here."

"Yeah, what do you need?" Scarem asked, walking up to Scourge's side. While Scourge had been talking, Scarem had simply been staring at the huge room in dumbfounded awe.

"Keep our guest here pinned down. That traitor Nighteye tried his best to ruin my race's plans, and he came oh so close. Unfortunately, now his creation will have to watch as I destroy his only hope of his planet's salvation."

"You… you can't do this!" Sigma Prime shouted as Scourge stepped to the center of the chamber and Scarem pinned down the struggling Maximal. "What has our race ever done to you!?"

"You existed," Scourge answered off-handedly, his attention focused on the circle of glyphs around the dead center of the chamber. "Scarem, explain it to the buffoon. I have more important things to do."

"Our race has always been committed to the destruction of all other races," Scarem continued. "It's always been that way, as far back as our historic records go, all the way back to the beginning of time, to what our records refer to as 'Unicron', some mythical god of chaos. Bunch of slag, as far as I can tell."

"U-Unicron?" Sigma Prime said, his optics widening.

"Yeah, why? You heard of that legend?"

"Yes," Sigma Prime said sadly, "And he is far from a legend."

* * *

Magnaboss' optics blinked on. Turning his head painfully to one side than the other, Magnaboss took in his surroundings.

There were no surroundings.

Far, far above a massive alien mothership was still coming apart from the inside out, the many sections of the ship fracturing and flying out as far as his optics could see. If not for the dire conditions they were in, Magnaboss would almost have found it… beautiful.

Magnaboss was falling towards the surface of Cybertron, which was still quite a ways away. He tried to activate the rockets in his feet, but they failed to respond.

Trying something different, Magnaboss disengaged into his three separate components. Ironhide, who was the most damaged of the three, immediately went offline, as the severing of his link with the other two was enough to destabilize his systems and send him into stasis lock. Silverbolt, the least damaged of the three, tried to flap his eagle wings, hoping that he would be able to carry the other two safely down to the ground safely.

No such luck—his wing mechanisms were offline.

Sighing, Silverbolt looked over at Prowl, who merely looked back sadly.

They were going to die, Silverbolt realized. The others were too busy fighting for their own lives to worry about theirs. There were Vexorans everywhere on the ground below, and the firefights in the air had all but ceased, the Vexorans now completely victorious in that arena. In a few short cycles, it would all be over.

Looking up, Silverbolt saw three of the five Superion Maximus components falling as well, about two hundred feet further up. Judging from their lack of movement, they all seemed to be in stasis lock. Silverbolt remembered now. Magnaboss and the remaining Aerialbots had managed to get out of the mothership just before it exploded—no doubt from Dreadwing's efforts—but Omega Supreme, being as bulky as he was, was caught in the explosion. The force of the blast put the six survivors offline, but only for a few minutes in Magnaboss' case, it had seemed.

Taking in one last survey of the apocalypse occurring all around him, Silverbolt shut down his optics and waited for the inevitable, trying to focus his thoughts on Blackarachnia instead.

A cycle later, Silverbolt heard a popping sound from directly above him, a clawed hand grab his shoulder, and then he heard the popping sound again, much louder this time. He felt like he was being thrown somewhere at a supersonic speed, and the stress on his already strained circuits caused him to black out.

* * *

Obsidian winced as another loud bang sounded from the other side of the ten-foot-thick steel door, and a fairly large bump appeared on the side of the door facing them.

"'Ere it comes…" Sandstorm gulped.

"So, what? We just stay here and die?" Cybershark asked, exasperated.

"And take out as many of 'em as possible," Bulkhead growled.

Another loud bang, and the bump on the door enlarged.

"Like that'll matter," Cybershark huffed. "There's billions of 'em on the planet, losing a few dozen more—and on that, I'm being unreasonably optimistic—will hardly matter to them."

"Unfortunately, we are out of options," Shockwave said. "Sigma Prime and the others have apparently not found what they were looking for, which is hardly a surprise. Our only other option remains to destroy as many of them as possible before they terminate us. As a race, we were simply unprepared for an assault on the planet this large, given the timing."

Another loud bang sounded, and the bump on the door grew even bigger. Given how much their side of the door was warped, it wouldn't take much more force to break it down.

Waspinator whimpered.

"Well, I lived a long life," Strongarm sighed. "I am ready, Primus…"

"Way to lighten the mood, mate," Slugslinger shot back.

"I don't get it... this wasn't supposed to happen…" Nighteye muttered quietly to himself.

"What?" Magna Stampede asked.

"Nothing," Nighteye quickly replied, picking up his gun.

Shockwave charged up his gun-arm and pointed it at the door.

As if on cue, another huge bang sounded, this one much louder than the others. The door exploded, showering all of the assembled Transformers with bits and pieces of smoldering metal.

"Fire, now!" Shockwave commanded, and everyone fired as one into the smoking hole in the wall that just a few seconds ago was a door.

A few shrieking noises of pain sounded from the other side of the smoking hole. All was silent for a few moments, save for the recharging hum of the Transformers' guns. Then, in a split second, a huge wave of roaring Vexorans rushed into the Citadel's command room, their claws morphed into everything from knives to sawblades to ball-and-chains.

Taken by surprise at just how fast they had entered the room, all of the Transformers took a step back. Shockwave, reacting quickly, fired another huge blast from his gun-arm at the mass of Vexorans, vaporizing about five of them. This, however, proved to be a mistake. This turned many of the Vexorans' attention on the Predacon leader, who they took to be the most dangerous Transformer in the group. Before Shockwave could recharge his gun-arm again, at least a dozen of the aliens pounced on the one-eyed Transformer and started to hack him to pieces. Shockwave let out a cry of pain, which was cut short suddenly.

"SHOCKWAVE!" Slugslinger yelled, unleashing his shoulder cannon on one of the Vexorans covering his leader. Many of the other Transformers also unloaded their weapons on the Vexorans attacking Shockwave, and it only took a few seconds to either vaporize them or blast them into retreating back to the large mob of aliens a dozen feet away.

It was too late, however—after the Vexorans were cleared off Shockwave, the other Transformers gaped as they saw that Shockwave was cut into at least two dozen pieces. His sole optic didn't even have a spark of life left in it.

A second later, the room erupted into chaos, both sides engaging the other in an insane rage.

* * *

"H-he's real?" Scarem asked, incredulous. "You got to be kidding me."

"I wish I was," Sigma Prime grunted. "Unicron attacked Cybertron about three hundred stellar cycles ago. Some of the remains of that battle still are still here to this day."

"Naw, you can't—you're just trying to distract me, Prime," Scarem said, his tone suddenly growing more serious. Leaning over more closely to Sigma Prime, Scarem morphed one of his four arms into a blade and held it an inch from the Maximal's face. "And I won't fall for any more of your kind's tricks."

While all this was being said, Scourge was standing in the center of the chamber, mumbling something in an unrecognizable language.

"What—what are you doing?" Sigma Prime yelled out to Scourge.

Scourge ignored him and kept on mumbling.

"And you aren't going to distract HIM, either," Scarem said menacingly, the very tip of his blade now right in between Sigma's optics. "Now, onto what I was saying before—our race was driven by this belief in this mythological chaos god to seek out and destroy all other races. Eventually we abandoned those silly superstitions, but our drive to be the sole race in the galaxy still remains. This is what we call the 'proper timeline'. Our Vexoran elders have calculated exactly what events need to occur, and when they need to occur, to bring about entropy and the destruction of all other races as soon as possible. We have discovered recently that you Transformers are a hindrance to this proper timeline. This is why we—"

Scarem continued talking, but Sigma Prime suddenly found that he could no longer hear the Vexoran. In fact, he couldn't hear anything at all!

_What the…? Have my audio receptors suddenly shut down? But they aren't damaged…_

_ORGANISM TRYING TO ACTIVATE WELL DOES NOT HAVE PROPER ENERGY SIGNATURE,_ a loud, monotonous voice suddenly boomed in Sigma Prime's mind. _RECEPTIVE SPARK NEARBY. ATTEMPTING TO CONNECT TO RECEPTIVE SPARK._

"Who is—" Sigma Prime said, but caught himself when he realized Scarem had heard him. In fact, he could now hear Scourge's mumbling as well—as well as the rest of the sounds in the room!

"Wait, what? What are you asking?" Scarem said, puzzled.

Suddenly, Scourge yelled out from across the room. Looking to the edge of his vision, given the limited moment his head could handle at the moment without getting impaled, Sigma Prime saw the optics of the huge Transformer statue standing on one side of the room light up a bright blue. Scarem turned around and gasped as the huge statue unsheated its sword and took a step forward.

"Scarem, kill Prime! Kill him now!" Scourge yelled out, on the verge of panicking.

"Right, got it! Alright Sigma, time to meet—huh?"

Sigma Prime had closed his optics, preparing for the inevitable. After Scarem's confused statement, however, Sigma opened his optics—only to find that Scarem's blade-hand had gone right through him, and into the floor below! Seeing an aura coming off of him, Sigma held up his hands to his eyes—however, instead of their usual white-and-red color, they were now entirely a transparent light blue. Standing up—right through Scarem—Sigma Prime inspected the rest of his body, seeing that it was all the same transparent electric blue.

"Uh-oh…" Scarem gulped, scrambling away from Sigma Prime.

Meanwhile, Scourge stared up speechless as the giant statue raised its sword, pointing the end of the blade at the Vexoran. As its ancient joints groaned and moved, small pieces of rubble shook off of the giant, revealing that it was actually a normal, albeit very very ancient, Autobot. Although it looked huge to Sigma Prime and the two Vexorans, in actuality it was only slightly larger-than-average when compared to a normal Autobot.

"Spawn of Unicron," the ancient Autobot thundered, "You have defiled this holy place! You think highly enough of yourself to try to gain the power of the Matrix? Let us see how well you do against just a tiny fraction of that power!"

The Autobot's sword started to brighten. Scarem quickly dove right through Sigma Prime, heading for the exit. Sigma Prime shielded his eyes as the glow intensified. Scourge cursed and leapt aside, but the ancient Autobot was too fast. Keeping the tip of his sword trained on Scourge, as soon as the Vexoran landed back on his feet, the Autobot's sword flashed briefly and a blue bolt of energy leapt out of it, engulfing Scourge. The Vexoran didn't even have time to react before his body was vaporized.

"Slag, it's real! It's real it's real it's real…" Scarem repeated, panicking as he started to make his way into the corridor leading away from the Well of Allsparks.

Looking down at Sigma Prime, the old Autobot rumbled, "Sigma Prime, you hold the receptive spark. You know what to do. I will leave the other to you."

Sigma Prime nodded. The Autobot was right—he DID know what this "ghost form" of his was capable of, though he couldn't explain why. Closing his optics, in a split second he teleported from where he was standing to a few feet ahead of Scarem. The Vexoran gasped and skidded to a halt.

"What… what's going—" Scarem started.

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Sigma Prime merely thrust his hand into Scarem's main body. Scarem screeched in agonizing pain as his whole body suddenly lit up in blue flames, which started to eat at his form. Within a few seconds, there was no sign there had ever been a Vexoran standing before Sigma Prime.

Closing his optics again, Sigma Prime teleported back into the main chamber, and turned his head upwards to the ancient Autobot.

"Alright, now that we've dealt with them," Sigma Prime said, "What is going on here?"

"The threat is not yet passed, Sigma Prime," the Autobot replied. "You, the new Prime, must open the Well of Allsparks. Only then can this planet be saved."

"How…?" Sigma Prime started. He stopped mid-sentence, sensing that the knowledge of how to do so had suddenly just entered his processor inexplicably.

The ancient Autobot smirked.

Sigma Prime walked up to the circle of glowing glyphs in the center of the chamber and thrust his hand into it, mumbling something in ancient Cybertronian.

A light blue light erupted from the circle, and as Sigma Prime took a few steps back, he saw hundreds--- no, thousands—of transparent blue forms rocket up from the circle. When the forms reached the ceiling high above, they flew right through it, as if nothing solid existed there. At first the forms were moving far too fast for Sigma Prime to make out what they were, but out of the corner of his optics he saw a few familiar forms pass upwards…. Rattrap and Triceradon!? Sigma Prime also noticed that there was no longer an aura coming off of him—looking down at himself, he saw he was back to his normal form.

"Hey… you," Sigma Prime said, starting to address the ancient Autobot and then realizing he didn't know its name. "Did I… did I just open up the actual Matrix?"

"Yes… yes, you did," the Autobot said. "As the new Prime, you are the only living Transformer capable of performing such an act. Every Autobot and Maximal that has ever lived and died is now rushing to defend our planet. Congratulations, Sigma Prime. By reaching this place, you have truly proven worthy of your title, regardless of your origins. And… the name is Vector Prime, by the way."

* * *

Slugslinger, Magna Stampede, and Spittor had all fallen.

Nighteye had begun to give up hope. Although they were fighting valiantly, and they were honestly staying alive longer than he had expected, they were simply far too outnumbered to last more than another few cycles. Although still alive, all the remaining Transformers had many cuts and gashes all over. Waspinator had lost an arm and a leg and lay in the center of their circular formation, leaking badly. And from every side, more and more Vexorans rushed towards them to join the battle.

All of a sudden, a multitude of transparent blue forms rose from the floor, stopping a few feet above the ground and hovering there. Wherever any of the blue forms passed through a Vexoran, they immediately caught on fire, burning up in just a few seconds. Nighteye even recognized Gryphtron and Airazor among the multitude of new beings in the room. It took a few seconds for everyone—both Transformer and Vexoran—to realize just what was going on. With a screech of terror from the Vexorans and a hurrah from the Transformers, the battle continued, the balances now completely flipped. The assembled Maximals and Predacons fought with a renewed vigor against the quickly-thinning Vexoran ranks, now joined by the spiritual forms of countless deceased Autobots and Maximals.

* * *

Silverbolt looked up in utter disbelief.

Of all the beings he had thought might save them, it had turned out to be… _Taran_?

The tricky Vexoran stood in front of them all, smirking. Silverbolt looked all around and saw that they were in some kind of abandoned warehouse in Cybertron, deep beneath the surface if the lack of good light was any indication. From the looks of things, it had been abandoned for sometime—everything in the warehouse was still scaled to be used by full-sized Autobots, which meant that it had been completely forgotten about for at least two hundred years. What really disturbed Silverbolt, though, were the main pieces of the Combaticons scattered behind Taran, all hooked up to various life support devices, a few parts mangled and experimented on beyond recognition already. Silverbolt stared, horrified, as Barricade's disembodied head mouthed "Kill me".

Looking at the remaining Transformers with a characteristic chuckle, Taran proceeded to answer Silverbolt's question.

"Why? Quite simply, really. You were the only ones to make it out of an exploding mothership—no mean feat, I must admit. Thus, you have proven to be not only more resilient, but faster, more agile, and quicker-thinking than any other Transformer combiners I have ever come across. Which means, of course, that you have earned the privilege to become one of my minions."

"What are you yammering on about?" Ironhide said—fully repaired, as all of them were. "We'll never take orders from the likes 'a you!"

"Why, I need some loyal troops to carry out certain… tasks… I need to do," Taran laughed. "And you all have proven yourselves very reliable, as have these Combaticons behind me, who I found most diabolical, given the way they abandoned you all merely because Shockwave had ordered them to—I rather like such loyalty, heheh. As for your unwillingness, I have techniques that can prove most 'persuasive,' heheh. And given my teleportation implant and genetic enhancements, you will find it very difficult indeed to disobey me."

Prowl growled, transforming into lion mode and getting ready to pounce. "I would have preferred death to this!"

"Again, you have little choice," Taran said. "Now, if you want to attack me now in frustration, I can oblige, but I must warn you that—"

Taran screamed in pain as a transparent blue clawed hand suddenly poked up through the ground, passing right into Taran's foot. Quickly catching on fire, Taran only managed to squeak out, "It can't be…" before he completely evaporated.

And Silverbolt thought he had been in utter disbelief before… rising up through the ground were dozens of transparent Autobots and Maximals, a few of which he recognized from readings in the historical archives.

But the one who had killed Taran was the one who particularly caught his attention.

"I had always wanted to do that," Blackarachnia said as she rose up out of the floor, smirking.

* * *

"High Guardian Zaknos, the tides have completely turned! The entire planet is covered with Transformer spirits, and they are making their way to the mothership as we speak! We must transwarp away, now!"

"Agreed," a very distressed Zaknos said. He didn't have a clue as to what was going on, but he wasn't going to stick around to find out. "Get us out of here now, Lieutenant!"

No sooner had Zaknos given the order than the lights in the command room flickered off.

"Oh, slag…." The lieutenant yelped.

Zaknos buried his head in his hands and screamed curses as the room grew light again, though the light this time was of a bright blue shade.

* * *

It was quite an interesting sight, Sigma Prime thought to himself. Certainly he would never see anything like it again in his lifetime.

All around him, as far as the eye could see, Transformers were gathered in front of the Council Citadel. Some of them were of the normal metal-and-mech-fluid kind, but most had died long ago, now transparent blue shells of what they had looked like when alive.

In the middle of the huge crowd stood he and Vector Prime stood, side by side. Gathered around in a circle closed to them were all the surviving Transformers that had fought on—and sometimes against-- Sigma Prime's side through the Beast Wars and now through the Vexoran War, as well. Obsidian, Strongarm, Nighteye, Waspinator, Bulkhead—even some that he had taken for dead, such as Silverbolt; the frail elder Nightviper, who had been in hiding in a secret bunker; and Ramulus, who had held on to his life by an inch during the earlier fight and had been taken to a CR chamber just in time—now all stood around them, faces battle-weary but smiling.

In the circle immediately outside the aforementioned survivors stood the many Maximals who had fought and died during the Beast Wars and the Vexoran War. Cheetor, Depth Charge, Skydive, Rattrap, Rhinox, Bonecrusher, Blackarachnia (who was holding hands with Silverbolt), even Optimus Primal—all that had died were standing there, shining transparent blue.

"I was kind of hoping to offset my kind's plans enough to create the next Prime instead of a Trojan horse, but I had to admit, I never expected this," Nighteye said, staring up gladly at Sigma Prime.

"Why didn't you tell any of us about why I was created, Nighteye?" Sigma Prime said.

"Please, my real name is Vreknor," 'Nighteye' said, before explaining. "I was part of a small sect of Vexorans that were against what the rest of us were doing to other races. Like many others in our group, I took on a fake name and a fake background and joined with the Vexoran army, to 'keep an eye' on what our kind was doing to other species. I eventually discovered my kind's motives behind your creation and altered them, as any of my sect would have in such a situation. After I landed on Earth and acquired a Transformer form, I figured it was time to come out of hiding, so to speak. However, I didn't tell you or the other Maximals any of my big secrets simply because I didn't want them to discover me—or your real purpose, for that matter-- if any of you were captured and tortured by Vexorans. Trust me, my race has some… really persuasive techniques."

"I can only imagine," Sigma Prime said grimly. "Speaking of which, are we sure your race won't attack us again? They couldn't have spent all their troops on just one assault, however massive it was."

"Given that it will take quite some time before this loss is even known among my kind because of how few survivors there were, and because they now know how powerful your race is, I sincerely doubt it," Vreknor said. "Still, we can never be too certain… Because of this, and because I'd be a wanted criminal among my kind, I'd like to stay here with you, in this form, and help out your race in any way I can."

"Night—er, Vreknor," Sigma Prime corrected, chuckling. "You're welcome to stay for as long as you want. You've proven yourself to be a reliable and dear friend time after time."

"Get on wit' the ceremony already!" Rattrap yelled out.

"It is time," Vector Prime said, chuckling. Raising his voice, he rumbled, "Fellow Maximals, Autobots, Decepticons, Predacons—to all those gathered here today: It has been two days since the Vexorans stood in our place, our planet all but taken. Though all of you fought valiantly and courageously, we are all still here today because of one Maximal—Sigma Prime, who, as foretold by the written law of Primus, is now the new chosen leader of the Maximals."

As soon as Vector Prime finished his sentence, the crowd erupted in thunderous applause and cheers, though some—namely, the Maximals and Autobots—seemed more enthused than others.

After the applause had finally died down, Vector Prime continued, "Many helped make this possible, and without them Sigma Prime would not have been able to save the planet."

More applause.

"Now, however, the battle is behind us, and only Primus knows what the future will bring. Cybertron is in ruins; nearly three-quarters of its population was killed in the assault; the leader of the Predacon insurrection is dead. Most of us gathered here will be able to watch as time passes by, but will not be able to participate in it, for our page in the book of Primus has already come and gone. What will happen next is up to you, the living. And though I have limited insight into space and time and can see many possibilities in the future, I am not certain what paths you will take. Some are fraught with danger and lead to the very destruction of your race. Others lead to a new golden age for the universe. But regardless of what path you choose, most of you alive today will not see another conflict on the scale of what you have just witnessed these last few days. This has been your defining moment; this is the main chapter in your life's diary. Our war against the dark god Unicron will never truly end, and let this be a lesson to our race—fight amongst yourselves, and risk being defeated by an even greater enemy."

"Now, with that said, I will take my leave of you all. I am the eternal guardian of the Well of Allsparks, and I cannot leave my post for long. I will leave all of the spirits standing here with us a short while to say goodbye, and then they will follow me as well, for it is not Primus' will to let the living and the dead interact for long, only when it is absolutely needed. But before we go, I will let Sigma Prime here lead all of us, living and dead, in one last final cheer of victory. Sigma Prime?"

"Right, I'll take it from here," Sigma Prime acknowledged. Raising his voice, he continued, "To all of you, for staying steadfast against the forces of Unicron! For all of the Transformer race, that have ever lived or ever will live! 'Till all are one!"

"_Till all are one_!" the crowd thundered, pumping their fists in the air along with Sigma Prime.

"_Till all are one_!"

"_Till all are one_!"

FIN

_(Author's End Note: Well, that's it! That's the end of my Transformers series! To think that it's been almost eight years since I started this fanfic series… I hope you've enjoyed it, and thanks for reading! This is indeed the **end** of my Transformers series, by the way, I'm not planning on continuing with another one. I may write the occasional standalone TF fanfic, but I'm not making another series for the foreseeable future. Instead, I'm going to concentrate on my X-Men: Evolution fanfiction series, which I encourage you to check out if you were familiar with and liked the TV series. Thanks again for reading!)_


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